


First Minister Things

by Python07



Series: If Looks Could Kill [2]
Category: Forever (TV), The Musketeers (2014)
Genre: Crack, M/M, Richelieu is immortal, angry kiss
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-06
Updated: 2016-07-06
Packaged: 2018-07-21 21:45:44
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,339
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7406071
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Python07/pseuds/Python07
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>sequel to If Looks Could Kill -- Treville doesn't trust Aurelian. Richelieu does, without question.</p>
            </blockquote>





	First Minister Things

For two weeks, Treville hardly caught sight of Richelieu without that priest, Aurelian, shadowing him. He didn’t like the familiarity between them. He didn’t like the way Aurelian was always in Richelieu’s private space.

Richelieu was always, always, on guard. He was always as sure of his surroundings as Treville, as vigilant as Treville. However, he was relaxed with Aurelian. He smiled with a genuine warmth for Aurelian and it made something ugly rise in the pit of Treville’s stomach.

The King was still absurdly pleased with himself at bringing the two old friends back together. He had no problems letting Aurelian attend court. He even let Aurelian give him a history lesson or two and his eyes got as wide as saucers when Aurelian told him about the Roman legions.

Treville snorted in frustration. The King would never make a scholar and would sooner or later grow bored. Then perhaps, they could back to the business of state and Aurelian could go on his way.

Louis stood from his throne and grinned widely. “Come take a walk in the garden with me, Sextus.” He playfully pointed at Richelieu. “You don’t get to come, Armand. I want to hear the stories without you censoring them.”

Aurelian bowed. He shot Richelieu a smirk. “I believe I know just what you’re looking for, Majesty.”

Richelieu mock sighed and stepped to the side. “Do show some restraint, Sextus.”

Louis took Sextus’ arm. “He certainly will not.” He laughed. “Go do some First Minister things. I don’t care.”

The courtiers filed out of the room after the King and Sextus. Most of them followed at a respectful, discreet distance. Treville hurried to catch up with Richelieu. “Cardinal, may I have a word?”

Richelieu stopped and turned to face Treville, his expression neutral. “What is it?”

Treville lowered his voice. “Not here. My office.”

Richelieu arched an eyebrow, but nodded. “Very well.”

They fell into step together, but neither said a word.

Treville’s office in the Louvre was a small space in a seldom used wing of the palace. It was still ornate but the only furniture was an empty desk and one chair. There was a thin film of dust on every surface.

He was much more comfortable in his space at the Musketeer barracks and he did all his work there. However, this space was private, with a lock on the door, and that was all he needed. He opened his mouth and found that he didn’t know how to begin.

Richelieu stepped into the center of the room. He turned to face Treville. He let out a bored sigh. “What is it, Captain?”

“Your friend,” Treville answered shortly.

Richelieu blinked. “Sextus? What about him?”

“He’s been staying with you.”

Richelieu studied Treville for a long moment, a calculating gaze, before he answered haughtily, “I don’t see how it’s any of your business, but yes.”

Treville could’ve shaken the man. He stepped closer and growled, “I remember what happened the last time one of your old friends came to visit. A threat to the First Minister of France is my business.”

Richelieu looked down his nose at Treville. “Sextus is nothing like Sistini.”

Treville met Richelieu with a defiant gaze. “You’re sure of that, are you?”

“Completely,” Richelieu answered smoothly and without hesitation. 

Treville grabbed Richelieu’s arm. He squeezed. “You were sure last time.”

Richelieu’s eyes flashed. He jerked his arm free and hissed, “Sextus has never been a threat to me.” He looked Treville up and down and his lip curled into a sneer. “I’ve never had cause to doubt his affection.”

Treville made an angry, pained noise deep in his throat. He shoved Richelieu into the nearest wall. He pressed their bodies together and kissed him, hard and demanding.

Richelieu groaned and opened his mouth to the assault. He cupped Treville’s face in both hands. He hummed and brushed his thumbs over Treville’s cheekbones.

Treville hardly realized it when Richelieu gentled the kiss and took control. All he could think about were the ways their lips and tongues moved together and the heat building between them. He wasn’t prepared when Richelieu suddenly and savagely bit his bottom lip. He yelped.

Richelieu abruptly reversed their positions. He held Treville against the wall, his forearm over Treville’s throat. There was a fire in his eyes and his face was flushed. His voice was low and intent. “You no longer have the right to touch me in such a way.”

Treville found himself mesmerized by Richelieu’s barely controlled passion and fury. His breath came in short pants. “I…” he started helplessly only to fall silent.

Richelieu took a deep breath. He stepped back and the neutral mask was firmly in place. “Now, if you will excuse me. You heard the King. I have First Minister things to do,” he said, completely deadpan, and swept out.

Treville could only wipe the blood off his lip and stare after the Cardinal.

\-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The whole cavern was warm and humid, lit with candles, giving everything a soft glow. The walls were smooth, decorated with frescoes. The rectangular bath took up most of the floor space.

Aurelian slipped into the hot water. He sighed in pleasure. He dunked his head and came up with a grin. “I should’ve known you would have a secret caldarium under your palace.”

Richelieu followed. “It’s not something the church would approve of.”

Aurelian settled against the sloped end of the bath. He looked around again. One end of his mouth quirked up. “True. Too hedonistic. And they’d all be jealous. The hypocrites.” 

“That they are.” Richelieu sighed wistfully. “Sometimes, I miss the baths.”

“Oh, yes,” Aurelian agreed. “The baths, the Circus, the Coliseum, the Forum, the Campus Martius, the fountains in every square. Parts of Paris sparkle but it’s squalid compared to Rome at its height.”

“Then you’re forgetting the Suburra. You’re forgetting the narrow alleyways and the cramped tenements. No matter what religion tells you, man has always been separated into the haves and have-nots.”

“True.” Aurelian pulled Richelieu to sit in front of him. He started rubbing the tense muscles in Richelieu’s back and shoulders. “Are you going to tell me what happened after I went out into the gardens with the King?”

Richelieu grunted. “No.”

Aurelian pressed into a persistent knot, hard. “Lucius,” he said warningly.

Richelieu winced. “Treville wished to speak to me about you.”

Aurelian eased up but didn’t stop. “What about me?”

Richelieu gradually relaxed under Aurelian’s hands. He closed his eyes and leaned back into Aurelian. “He wanted to know if I thought you’re a threat to me.”

Aurelian snickered. He rubbed the back of Richelieu’s neck. “I told you that he’s jealous.”

“He’s insufferable and I will speak no more about him,” Richelieu stated flatly. 

“But--”

“No,” Richelieu snapped.

“All right,” Aurelian said soothingly. “There’s no need to tense all over again.” He wrapped his arms around Richelieu’s torso. He kissed the side of Richelieu’s head. “I’m sorry, cousin.”

Richelieu put his head back to rest against Aurelian’s shoulder. He shut his eyes. “There’s nothing to forgive,” he said wearily. “It’s my fault. I never should’ve indulged myself with him. I knew it could only end one way.”

Aurelian held on tight. “Soon, you will no longer have to see him.”

“How are the preparations for my death progressing?”

“I’ve found the man we need. He’ll be waiting on word from me. How long do you think you’ll need?”

Richelieu sighed, becoming more lax in Aurelian’s arms. “A couple more weeks to tie up some loose ends. I want to leave things as stable as I can. Louis is hopeless but he has a strong support network. I’m sure the Queen and the Captain will not mourn my passing.”

“I’m not so sure,” Aurelian murmured.

“I am.”

The last was said with a quiet acceptance that Aurelian didn’t know what to do with. He nudged Richelieu. “No sleeping. Let’s take a plunge in the cold bath and then we can scrape each other’s backs.”


End file.
